On the Horizon
by oneforthehaters
Summary: Two months ago the first outbreak hit, spreading through the country like wildfire, and before anybody understood fully what was happening, at least half the population was gone.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Alright! So, it's been a long time since I've done a full-length fic. I've been..."creatively stupid" for several months now. Everything I write comes out shitty and just not good, but I have a good feeling about this one. So bear with me, although I like to think of writing as kind of like riding a bicycle ;).

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Unfortunately.

**Warnings: **blood, gore, mild violence, angst, zombies, AU, mentioned past character deaths

**Pairing(s): **Logan/James

**Rating: **We'll say PG-13

**Author's Note Number Two: **This is an AU fic. There's angst and blood and gore and there'll be mild violence and also mentioned past character deaths. This right here, this first piece, is just the prologue. More will be coming soon, since I'm almost finished with chapter one. This fic probably won't be too entirely long, but hopefully I can get teh chapters long enough. Not too short, not too long as I like to say! There will also be flashbacks at some point. Now, that's all said, I hope you guys ENJOY! :)

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**Prologue**

_It's Monday, or maybe it's Wednesday, hell I don't know anymore. But it's been about one month since we last saw each other._

James pauses, swallows past the dry lump in his throat.

_If you can hear me, if you're listening, I hope you're safe. You….you _have_ to be. _

A gust of wind blows through and causes interference. The walkie talkie in his hand shrieks and pops with static, and in a panic he turns the volume down. Once it stops he blows out a breath.

_Wherever you are please….just…answer me. _

Every day, at exactly eight in the morning, he says the same thing; some days he's so desperate for an answer that he pleads and begs but it still gets him nowhere. Every day it's the same thing: hoping for an answer, only to be met with silence.

Today feels different, maybe it's the desperation that's pressing down on his shoulders a little more every day; maybe it's the loneliness that's killing him; or maybe it's just the stupid fucking silence on the other end of the radio. But something feels different, like it's the end, or the beginning.

Taking a deep breath he clicks the button once more.

_Please. I need to know you're alive. If you can hear me I need you to say something, I need you to come back to me._

_Please, Logan, come back to me._

And once again there's nothing but silence.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews/alerts/favorites the epilogue got! Much appreciated :). Chapter one is longer, definitely. And like I said in the previous AN, there will be flashbacks at some point. So if you feel like you're missing out on some things, don't worry ;). I'd also like to say that I got the term walkers from The Walking Dead (there's even a mention of the show in here!) and the epilogue was also inspired by The Walking Dead. Also, I'm going to try really really really REALLY hard to get a new chapter up every week. But I have finals coming up soon so there could be a lag in updates until the beginning of December. If there is, I apologize. Hopefully between all the extra hours I'm picking up for the holidays I'll be able to possibly do more than once a week updates.

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing. I don't own Logan or James or Kendall or Carlos or Nickelodeon...nothing *pouts*

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**Chapter One**

_June 24, 2012_

It's hot out today. The sun's been baring down on them for hours now, relentless in its ferocity and unforgiving heat. Or maybe that's just the way it feels to James after walking for two hours straight with little to no water and barely any energy left to stand on his own two feet.

Logan is beside him—_was _beside him. James stops and turns, sees Logan bent over at the waist a few feet back. He drops his backpack and sluggishly makes his way to the other. Logan groans when James puts a hand on his shoulder, almost immediately shrugging it off, a muttered "too hot" following. James helps Logan stand anyway, ignoring the protests.

"We have to keep going, Logan. The convenience store isn't far, if we just keep going we'll make it there in time to—"

"In time to _what_, James?" Logan hacks out a dry cough, grimacing. James frowns. "In time to find safety for the night? I'm tired, and you're tired, too, I know it. Why can't we just…" Logan trails off, avoiding James' eyes.

"You're exhausted and the heat's gotten to both of us. Come on," James says softly and loops an arm through Logan's, helping him stand and getting them both to moving again.

James won't admit it out loud but Logan's right. They're both tired, some days it feels like they're both too tired to keep moving, and it's a constant struggle. He wants to give up more often than not. If it wasn't for Logan by his side James is sure he would've wasted himself days ago. But Logan is his only rock, his only companion, and that's the only thing keeping him from giving up completely.

The past few days have been the toughest by far. Two months ago the first outbreak hit, spreading through the country like wildfire, and before anybody understood fully what was happening, at least half the population was gone. Los Angeles was hit fast and hard, people getting sick one after the other. It was hard and it was a struggle to get through the days without being fearful or upset.

The first person to get sick at the Palm Woods was Camille. It starts with a fever, low grade, but then progresses to death. It eats you alive from the inside out, kills you, then brings you back to life. Once you're infected then that's it, you're done. James watched as everyone he knew and loved either got sick or fled the residence. His home for the past three years became a nightmare.

For days he, Logan, Carlos, Kendall, and Katie hid out in the basement. Those first few days were rough, never knowing when it was safe enough to venture out for supplies. After a while the Palm Woods grew silent, the halls empty. Katie was the first to go out on her own; she didn't come back.

Eventually they all decided it was time to leave. There was no one else there for them to wait for so they packed up their hockey duffels with as many supplies as possible, found a car to steal, and left. They were on the road for days. The world was—_is —_different and it was noticeable in the way the streets were devoid of life, the way the buildings seemed to sway and sag with every gust of wind. The number of dead bodies just lying there, some of them piled up and burned, some of them still fresh, was the best indication that everything had changed.

They traveled and they _survived_ and they lived as a group, just like always, only this time closer than they ever were Before.

But these past days, they've been the worst. Carlos got sick first, got taken by surprise at the last gas station they passed through, and went down in minutes. Kendall put the bullet through his head without flinching. Within two days Kendall was gone, too.

Now it's just James and Logan. A few miles back their car broke down. So they decided to pack up and walk to the last convenience store they passed, hoping they would find enough food and water to last them a few more days until they could get another car and find somewhere new to stay for the time being.

The first two miles were fine. But now they're both struggling two hours in. The convenience store isn't far and James knows, he _knows_, that if they can just make it there then they'll be fine for a few hours. Enough to time to rest up and eat and rehydrate before they need to move on to another place.

Logan sags against James after a few more minutes of shuffling forward. James is too exhausted to catch him. "You go, I'll be fine here. I just need to rest," Logan says, squinting up at James.

"You can't stay out here in the open. What if there's one of them out here, or what if a herd comes through? Logan, I can't leave you." James ignores the slight desperation in his voice.

"I've got my stuff, I'll go hide in the grass or something. Just go," Logan waves James off, already getting to his hands and knees to crawl towards the side of the road. James looks skeptical for a moment before finally nodding and turning to leave.

He stops, though, looking over his shoulder at Logan. "Got your radio?" he asks.

Logan smiles softly, giving James a quick salute, and nods. "Yeah, channel 241. Don't worry, James. I'll be fine."

James' lips tilt up in a half smile. He salutes Logan back, earning him a laugh, the first laugh he's heard in days. It makes his heart ache. Logan's laugh used to the be the one thing he looked forward to the most every morning, but now the world's taken that from him and James thought he'd never hear such a sweet sound again.

"I'll be back soon. Be safe, Logie."

"I promise."

It takes James twenty two more minutes to make it to the convenience store. There are a couple of walkers out front and he takes them out quickly with his knife. It's not as easy as shooting but it's quieter and doesn't attract the attention of others. He stops and stares at their rotting corpses.

In movies it always grossed him out to see such gore. In reality it's even worse. On screen the spray of blood isn't as startling, the color isn't as muted, and the sounds are definitely more terrifying than when they come through the speakers. After two months of this though, after two months of surviving, James has become numb to it all. The blood no longer makes his stomach roll and the noises no longer make him nervous.

Everything has changed and he's positive there's no going back.

With a sigh he kicks the nearest walker once in the arm. It doesn't respond and he's glad for that. _Stupid walkers,_ he thinks to himself. Zombies never seemed very appropriate. Zombies is a word they use in the movies and television shows. _Zombies_ isn't a word James thought he would ever have to apply to real life. But after one too many episodes of The Walking Dead the term 'walkers' seemed fitting enough. It was Carlos who suggested it first, when one of them let zombies slip out and the entire group fell silent.

James turns his head and keeps walking.

Inside James gathers as much as he can find. There's enough water still in crates in the small stock room and he finds some boxes of crackers and poptarts. It isn't much but it will have to do for now. Once his backpack is full to bursting and after making another quick sweep through the store he decides it's time to leave and get back to Logan.

Worrying is the one thing he hasn't grown accustomed to. The fear and the constant paranoia were eventually pushed the back of his mind, something the all got used to feeling. But the worrying…the worrying he can't just get used to. When it was the four of them he didn't worry too much because they had each other's backs and always made sure each person was safe. Now that it's down to two the worry has increased tenfold.

Every day there's this little nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that something's wrong, that something has happened to Logan. He doesn't know what he would do if anything happened to his only companion. Logan is all he has left.

James hefts his backpack up a bit further on his shoulders. The added weight is dragging it down and if he hadn't already sweated out every bit of moisture left in his body, he'd be drenched within a few minutes. The water he packed up is calling his name so he reaches for the one stowed in his back pocket and takes a long drink. It isn't cold but it's wet and it slides down smooth, refreshing enough to give him the boost he needs to keep going.

He keeps one hand close to his gun just in case he comes up on a problem. It's better safe than dead. As he's walking the wind picks up and it feels nice on his overheated skin. California during the summer has always been full of relentless heat but this time it's worse.

James is about halfway to the spot he left Logan when he hears a gunshot. Before panicking he stops and listens, hoping it was just an echo from some lone stranger far away from either of them. But then he hears another one and another and another, and he's running. The backpack drags him down so he shrugs it off, picking up speed once it's off despite the exhaustion he's been feeling.

As he's nearing the place he left Logan he comes to an abrupt halt. There's a herd, maybe twenty walkers shuffling around, some of them tripping over themselves to get underneath or over the wire fence separating a field and the road. James can see Logan, he can _see him_, and he's caught on the fence by what looks like his shirttails; he's fighting to get away, James can see him hurriedly unbuttoning the shirt, trying desperately to get it off. He's on the other side thankfully, but James knows that the strength of more than ten walkers can break that barrier.

He's about to call out to Logan, tell him that he's coming, when he's grabbed from behind. A hand has been clamped over his mouth and someone is telling him to be quiet as they drag him out of the road and behind some shrubs.

James struggles and the stranger lets him go. He tries to run away so he can help Logan but he's yanked down by the belt loops. "No, that's my best friend, let me go! I have to help him!" He turns, ready to punch or kick or anything, but there's a gun being pointed at his chest by a woman.

"If you go out there, you'll get him and yourself killed. I can't let that happen, kid," the stranger whispers. Wide eyed, James whips back around.

Now all he can do is watch. The entire herd has picked up Logan's scent from the looks of it. All of them are pressing against the fence; some of them are pulling on it. He can hear the snapping of the wooden posts holding the wire up. James barely notices the grip on his pants has loosened. He could make a break for it and try to help, but he's grounded by worry and fear.

"Please," James whispers, "can't we go help him?"

He doesn't get a response. A loud 'crack!' startles him into nearly toppling over. The fence has fallen. Logan is still struggling to get away and James can practically feel the intensity of Logan's desperation from all those feet away. But then, by some miracle, Logan gets the shirt off and then he's running across the field.

"We have to distract them!" James says, spinning around to face the woman. "If we don't they'll chase him down and—and they'll kill him."

The woman glares at him but quickly relents. She takes out a gun and fires it into the air before running off towards the herd. Most of them see her and start after her. James gets his own gun out too and fires at the closest walker. The ones that are left are looking at him now, sluggishly shuffling to him. He fires another few rounds into the heads of the ones closest to him, then turns around and runs in the same direction of the woman.

When he looks back he can't see Logan anymore.


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **This was supposed to be up last night but the doc manager wouldn't let me browse for the file in my documents, therefore it's up a night late. Oh well! Hope you all enjoy it! And thank you for all the favorites/alerts this has gotten :) (Also, please note that this chapter is a flashback, in case there's any confusion.)

**Dislcaimer: **I still don't own anything *pouts*

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**Chapter Two **

_April 2, 2012_

"Do you think it's true?"

James stops fiddling with the strands of Logan's hair and Logan props himself up on his elbows, staring at James with sleepy brown eyes.

"Do I think what's true?"

Logan sighs. "The stuff they've been saying on the news. About the sick people?" He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. James watches the movement for a moment until Logan pokes him in the side.

"I don't know." He shifts so he can lean against the headboard. "But there's always some kind of sick people epidemic isn't there? We've made it through bird flu and all that stuff. So what's so different about this one?" He smiles at Logan and Logan rolls his eyes, huffing, but he smiles back before leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to James' lips.

"It's just," Logan pauses, chewing on his lip for a few seconds. "It's just that they're making a bigger deal out of this one, like it's something really serious."

James reaches out and tugs on Logan's arm, and Logan comes willingly. He sidles up next to James, laying his head on James' shoulder, arm thrown across James' chest. He sighs, content.

They're silent for a minute or two. James speaks up first. "Let's not worry about it okay? It can't be _that_ serious." He pokes Logan's nose and Logan laughs, loud and happy, he worry over what's happening on the news gone for the moment. "Even if something is bad, they'll let everyone know in time."

"Yeah, I guess," Logan says softly. In an instant the good mood has deflated and James frowns even though Logan can't see him.

"We'll be fine, Logan."

_I hope so_.

It's eight in the morning when Carlos comes barreling into the bedroom. James flails so hard that Logan goes tumbling off the bed and onto the floor, muttering obscenities in the general direction of Carlos.

"Dude! Knock," James shouts and yanks the covers up.

Carlos huffs and rolls his eyes. "Like I haven't seen you guys naked before, geeze."

"What do you want, Carlos?" Logan asks, glaring as he struggles into his briefs from his position on the floor.

"Mama Knight told me to tell you guys that breakfast's ready," Carlos answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He grins at them, then, and spins on his heels to leave the room.

James groans and shoves his face into the pillows.

At breakfast, things are peaceful enough, and James is just settling into his chair when Katie comes running into the room and turns the television on. Everyone goes silent, even Carlos, as big bold letters begin flashing across the bottom of the screen.

_**DEATH TOLL RISES. THE PRESIDENT HAS DECLARED A NATIONAL STATE OF EMERGENCY, STAY TUNED FOR MORE INFORMATION**_.

A spoon hits the floor, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room. Katie sits heavily on the couch behind her. Swallowing hard, James puts his bowl of cereal down, twists his hands together in his lap. Next to him Logan's breathing has increased; when he looks over he sees Logan's eyes tightly closed and his lips pursed. James reaches out and places a hand on Logan's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It's silent for a moment longer until Ms. Knight clears her throat. "All right everyone, eat your breakfast. We've got a long day ahead of us. You boys need to be at the studio by nine and it's already 8. Chop chop!" She claps her hands but James can see that she's shaken just as much as the rest of them.

Logan starts slowly eating his breakfast so James does the same. By the time they're done it's time for the four of them to head to the studio. Carlos is out the door before any of the rest of them, but Kendall isn't far behind and then James and Logan follow. James is closing the door when Camille comes shuffling down the hall.

She looks terrible. Her bangs are plastered to her sweaty forehead, her skin is pale, and she's visibly shaking. She coughs and smiles, waving like she normally does when they pass in the mornings.

"Are you okay?" James asks quietly. He reaches out to touch her shoulder and when he does he jerks his hand back like he's been shocked. The heat radiating from her body is enough that he could feel it through her shirt. "Camille—"

"You're _sick_, aren't you?" Logan asks.

"No, you guys, it's just a fever and a cough. I'll be fine with some rest and fluids," she smiles, just as charming as ever, and James can see right through it. "You know me, I bounce back pretty fast." Her smile wavers then falls and a cough wracks her small frame.

James is pretty sure he hears Logan whimper. "Maybe you should go to the doctor," he suggests. She shakes her head vigorously but that only causes her to start coughing some more.

"I promise, I'll be fine. No need for a doctor," she reassures. "You guys have a nice day."

Waving once more, she walks past them smiling, and heads straight for the stairs.

She isn't fine. By that night James is watching her be wheeled away on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. It seems like the entire Palm Woods is crowding around the lobby watching, all of them murmuring between each other, spreading the news like wildfire.

_Camille's _sick_, she's got the virus._

_Camille's going to die. _

_Poor Camille._

It disgusts James the way they're making all these assumptions without knowing everything. For all they know it could be exactly what Camille said that morning, just a fever and a cough. Only it's progressed into pneumonia, James is almost sure of it. She _has _to be okay. He's always seen Camille as untouchable in the years that he's known her; infallible in a way that most people aren't. She's strong and willful and doesn't give up so easily.

She's going to get better and she's most certainly not going to die.

Logan's standing to James' right, just behind his shoulder, eyes wide and watery. James reaches back to grasp at Logan's hand and Logan gladly takes the offered comfort. James squeezes once, twice, reassuring Logan as best he can despite the situation. He turns around to face Logan. Carlos and Kendall are offering the same comfort.

"She'll be okay. You know Camille, she's not going to let some silly germs get the best of her," James murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of Logan's hand. Logan smiles and nods. It's the best James is going to get for now, he knows that, but he hates seeing Logan so upset.

"Trust me, Logan, she'll be _fine_."

And then somebody screams. One scream turns into three and three into a whole crowd. Everybody around them starts pushing and running. James searches for the cause of distress, still holding onto Logan's hand. He looks towards the lobby doors and it suddenly feels like his stomach has completely bottomed out.

Camille's still on the stretcher, but she's ripping at the restraints, her movements wild and uncoordinated. James isn't positive but he thinks he can hear her _growling_ over all the frantic yelling and shouting. She stumbles off the stretcher and her feet drag when she starts walking towards the nearest person.

"James, we have to help her," Logan shouts beside him. He's tugging on James' hand and moving in the direction of Camille.

"No, Logan, we can't help her. She's—" He pauses, uncertain. Is she dead? Is she alive?

James keeps Logan's hand gripped in his own as tightly as possible and begins pushing his way through the crowd. He can barely make out Kendall's blonde hair a few feet ahead and Carlos he can't see anywhere. Logan fights him but he keeps going. He can't save Camille, none of them can.

He pushes and pushes until he can reach Kendall's arm; he tugs on Kendall's sleeve, shouting his name. Kendall looks relieved when he sees the two of them. "Have you seen Carlos?" he asks loudly. James shakes his head in reply. "We have to get upstairs, find my mom and Katie. Maybe he's already waiting for us."

Kendall leads the way with James holding on to the back of his shirt, Logan trailing behind James still. They manage to shove their way to the stairs before the crowd overtakes them and from there it's an even bigger struggle to get through the doors.

James looks over his shoulder once more, searching for Camille. She's gone. Blowing out a breath he squeezes Logan's hands, holds onto Kendall a little more tightly, and fights his way through.


End file.
